Slender
by A Liar called Jago
Summary: It's the sixth year at Hogwarts and odd things are happening. Not only are Crabbe and Goyle suddenly very good at school, they are also popular. Whereas Malfoy skips lessons whenever possible, is seldom seen at the Great Hall and begins to look like an Inferius. Harry needs to know what's going on!
1. Chapter 1

slender (adjective)  
(slen· der | \ ˈslen-dər)  
Definition:  
1: spare in frame or flesh  
2: limited or inadequate in amount or scope

Chapter 1

The sixth year at Hogwarts had been somewhat odd so far. So much was going on. Between classes, Quidditch, homework and his meetings with Dumbledore, there wasn't much time left to do anything else really. Even worrying about all those terrifying incidents that had occurred, was unfortunately only ever possible when he was supposed to fall asleep. Katie Bell had been hexed, Ron had been poisoned and a second-year student from Hufflepuff had almost suffocated on a tar-like substance that had been suddenly filling out his mouth and nose. This last incident had happened two days ago in one of the many corridors inside the castle. Understandingly, everyone was afraid to be the next victim. But Harry was preoccupied with something else.

"Have you heard what Goyle did this morning in Transfiguration? I can't believe it!", said Hermione indignantly.

Oh, yes. Another thing that made this year seem so odd.

Crabbe and Goyle were suddenly incredibly good wizards. Somehow, they both had turned into 'Hermiones' over the summer. There wasn't a spell they couldn't perform and each and every question asked by the teachers was answered correctly. At first, he, Ron and Hermione didn't believe the stories they had heard but after a few potion lessons, they had to admit that the gossip was true. It seemed impossible but Crabbe and Goyle were good at school. Hermione had been investigating the matter and apparently they claimed that they had been studying very hard over the summer. Their parents had insisted on it, because their O.W.L. results had been miserable. Hermione didn't believe Crabbe and Goyle's story. She was certain that this much knowledge couldn't be obtained during one summer vacation. Especially because they were both incredibly good at non-verbal spells. And that was something they've only just learned at the beginning of the new school year. Harry and Ron agreed with Hermione. This was very strange.

While Hermione told him and Ron all about the latest dazzling spell that Goyle had performed in Transfiguration, they finished their lunch, got up and walked out of the Great Hall. Passing the Slytherin table, Harry glanced over to where Crabbe and Goyle sat. They were the centre of attention, talking and smiling. Malfoy wasn't sitting at his usual spot between Crabbe and Goyle at the Slytherin table. In fact, he wasn't there at all. He was seldom seen in the Great Hall and when he did appear, he sat alone at the far end of the table, close to the door. The other Slytherin's eyed him with a mixture of fear and curiosity but no one talked to him, not even Crabbe and Goyle. For five years, the three had been nearly inseparable and suddenly they wouldn't even look at each other. The whole thing seemed like an alternate reality. Crabbe and Goyle were now popular, even liked and Malfoy was shunned, and seemed almost inexistent at times. Not that Malfoy had been particularly liked before, but he had been the Slytherin's poster boy and to be on good terms with him had had its perks. Crabbe and Goyle had been the invisible ones, two shadows following Malfoy everywhere. What had happened over the summer?

Why were those three behaving so completely different?

Why was Malfoy avoiding other people, classes and well, everything really?

And that was it; the thing Harry was preoccupied with. Not that he wanted the old Malfoy back, no! This one was much better. Weeks would pass without Harry catching a glimpse of Malfoy and there were no jinxes or snarky remarks when he passed by him in the corridors. Life at Hogwarts was much more pleasant like this. And yet, he couldn't stop thinking about it, wondering what was going on. At first he had been looking at the Marauder's map every now and then during classes, to check Malfoys' whereabouts and to see if he'd been skipping school again. But then his curiosity got the better of him and he began to check the map more frequently. Every time it seemed safe to open it, he did so.

As he walked with Ron and Hermione along the corridors to get to their next class, he consulted the map again. It told him, that Malfoy was in the Slytherin common room, alone.

"You are looking for Malfoy again, aren't you?", Hermione said, looking over his shoulder from behind.

"Yeah..", Harry responded.

"But why are you still doing that? I mean, you've discovered that he skips most of his lessons, and spends his time either at the boy's bathroom on the sixth floor, the Slytherin common room, his own room, the library and sometimes you can't find him. That's all the map can tell you, Harry. It won't tell you what he's up to. If he is up to anything at all, that is. We should focus on Crabbe and Goyle. **Those **two are weird."

"Just because they are as skilled as you, doesn't mean they're weird", Ron said, and added: "You're afraid that one day, they will outperform you, aren't you?"

"Of course not!", Hermione snapped. "But the whole thing is suspicious. I've told you before, they couldn't have.."

"I know, I know", Ron sighed. "What about Polyjuice Potion? Maybe they aren't the real Crabbe and Goyle."

Hermione was shaking her head and said: "No, they would have to drink it regularly and I haven't seen them carrying any flasks or bottles around with them."

Ron and Hermione were so immersed in their conversation about Crabbe and Goyle that they didn't notice that Harry had let himself fall back a little and wasn't listening to them anymore.

He was still pondering over the first thing Hermione had said. She was right. The map could only tell him where Malfoy was, but not what he was doing there.

* * *

"Should we go over there and talk to him?", Crabbe whispered hesitantly.

"What is there to talk about? We settled the matter on our train ride to Hogwarts", Goyle answered in an equally hushed tone.

Crabbe sighed. "I know. But I feel sorry for him. I mean...look at him. Don't you get the feeling that he's losing it? I don't want to be responsible for...you know...if he...tops himself."

"Oh, come on. He's not gonna do that. It's probably just hard for him to cope with the new situation. He'll get used to it."

"New? Half a year has passed and he's...well...", Crabbe thought about it for a moment and couldn't come up with a good word to describe his former friends' state, "...still like that. Although... actually, I think he's getting worse."

The two Slytherins sat in their common room, it was late and they were trying to finish some homework but Crabbe couldn't concentrate. Draco Malfoy was sitting in an armchair in the darkest corner of the common room. He looked terrible. His hair was greasy and unkempt, his school uniform stained and in disarray. He picked absentmindedly at something that was lying in his hand and stared into space. All Slytherins gave him a wide berth and Crabbe couldn't blame them. It was kinda creepy. Almost everyone in their year was relieved each time it was certain that Draco would skip school again. No one liked to be near him. Of course they were all speculating about Draco's state. Most of the students were convinced that he was distressed over his fathers' arrest. And they weren't wrong, but the whole thing was a hundred times more complex than simple sadness. Crabbe couldn't help himself, he felt guilty. He knew that Goyle felt the same way, but his friend was better at pushing the nagging inner voice aside.

Goyle frowned while he watched Draco for a moment, but then he shook his head and said, more to himself than to Crabbe: "No, he's not our responsibility. And you know full well, that he's gonna yell at us again if we attempt to talk to him about it."

"Yeah, you're probably right", Crabbe muttered.

"And frankly, I think he's overreacting", Golye said but when he saw the appalled look on Crabbe's face he added quickly: "Don't get me wrong. Obviously, we both know how hard Draco's life is and I wouldn't want to be in his shoes but come on...letting himself go like that...I mean I get that he wants to skip certain lessons and avoid attention but it's not helping if he walks around looking like an Inferius."

Crabbe nodded. "We should tell him that."

"What?"

"We should tell him that he's attracting too much attention this way."

Goyle snorted. "If you want to get your head bitten off, be my guest but I'm going to finish my homework now."

Crabbe sighed again and focused on his own homework. Twenty minutes later they were both done, and decided to go to sleep. They packed up their books, parchments and quills and headed for their dormitory.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Hermione was quite right. The map wouldn't be able to tell him why Malfoy was acting so strange since the beginning of the sixth school year. Harry had to find that out by himself. And since he was the owner of an invisibility cloak, he was sure that he would get some answers soon.

Right now he was standing in front of the stone wall that was the entrance to the Slytherin common room. Hidden by the cloak, Harry was waiting patiently for a student to appear and open the door for him. It was late and all the students had to return to their houses now. That was why Harry hoped that it wouldn't take too long for someone to let him in. Unknowingly, of course. He checked the Marauder's map and saw that a Slytherin was finally approaching. At the same time he noticed that Crabbe and Goyle were heading for their dormitories. Malfoy was still in the common room.

The Slytherin student appeared next to him, muttering the password and the stone wall opened up. While slipping undetected into the common room, Harry tried to commit the password to memory. It would probably be valid for a few more days and access to the dungeons might come in handy if the mystery couldn't be solved during one visit. As the student, who had entered the common room together with Harry, disappeared into the corridor that led to the dormitories, Harry thought himself to be all alone. But the map had clearly stated that Malfoy was still in here.

Harry carefully took a few more steps into the room and had a look around. It was slightly damp in here, there was a faint smell of mouldering wood and what little light the lamps provided, seemed to be swallowed up by the high dark stone walls. Harry couldn't imagine feeling comfortable in here. It was the complete opposite of the Gryffindor common room.

And then he spotted Malfoy sitting in an armchair. As silently as possible, Harry walked towards him and when he stood right in front of him, his eyes widened in shock. For a second, Harry thought that Malfoy was dead. He sat there like a statue. He didn't seem to breathe, didn't blink...but then Harry noticed that the Slytherin's hands were moving. Although very slowly, but it was enough to calm Harry's nerves. He didn't have to call for help. He stepped even closer to peer at the thing that Malfoy was holding in his hands. A black spider, the size of a Galleon, was painfully loosing it's legs, as Malfoy slowly ripped them out one by one. The sight of it made Harry feel queasy and he wondered if the Slytherin was aware of his actions. Maybe he had lost his mind? He certainly looked the part.

It was almost painful to look at him. His eyes were bloodshot, with dark circles around them. His face was even paler than usual and hollow-cheeked, his lips cracked and bleeding slightly. The school uniform he was wearing was a mess. There were stains on his white shirt and he buttoned it the wrong way. He had grime on his hands and face and there was even some in his hair, which looked greasy and dishevelled.

It was strange seeing him like this. For five years, Malfoy had always looked so immaculate. Not one hair had been out of place and now...

Of course Harry neither cared about Malfoy's appearance, nor for...well...him in general. But it was his concern, if the whole thing was somehow linked to Voldemort. And with a member of the Malfoy family, it almost certainly was.

Suddenly, Harry heard the rustling of robes and jumped aside just in time to avoid colliding with Snape, who was walking briskly up to Malfoy, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pulled him out of the armchair.

"What do you think you're doing?!", Snape growled.

Malfoy looked at him as if he'd just woken up. He blinked in confusion, shook his head slightly, tried to bring his eyes into focus and his mind up to speed. It didn't seem to work, though. He mumbled something that sounded like "What?" and swayed dangerously. Snape tightened his grip and snapped: "You reek! When was the last time you've had a bath?!"

Again, Malfoy seemed to have a hard time processing the question. Snape lost what little patience he'd had and slapped him in the face. A chocked high-pitched yelp came over Malfoy's lips and he would have fallen to the floor if it weren't for Snape still gripping the collar of his shirt.

"Now that I seem to have your full attention, Mr. Malfoy", Snape snarled, "would you care to explain to me the following: Why does it seem that attending school is suddenly beneath you?" The disoriented look on Malfoy's face had indeed disappeared but it was obvious to Harry that the Slytherin was still relying on Snape to hold him upright.

Malfoy cleared his throat and muttered: "I have other things to do, more important things."

"I assume you are talking about the task that has been given to you. But how, pray tell, will you finish your task if you are expelled?"

"What?"

"The other teachers have been pestering me with questions about you. You've missed too many lessons and now they threaten to expel you. I told them I would talk to you and here I am. Tomorrow you will go to each and every lesson that's on your timetable and you will continue to do so. You will act normal and inconspicuously. If anyone asks you why you've missed so many lessons, you will simply tell them that you've been sick but now everything is fine. Do you understand me?!"

"But I haven't got time for that. I have to finish..." Malfoy stopped himself.

"You must. There is no other way. You stand out, you attract too much attention, people already suspect you to be responsible for those incidents."

"I'm not!" Malfoy almost shouted. "That wasn't me!"

Snape shook his head and Harry noticed that he didn't believe Malfoy. "If you'd only tell me what you're trying to do, I could help you..."

"I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help!"

"Keep it down, will you! And you forget that your father told me your little secret a long time ago, so that I could look out for you. I know for a fact that you need all the help you can get, especially since Crabbe and Goyle decided to..."

"Oh, shut up!" Malfoy shouted and tried to break free but failed. This enraged him even more. "I'm tired of it! Why does everyone think I need help, or protection?! I'm not a child anymore. I will do what I have to do on my own. I will prove to you all that I am not helpless. I am not a failure! Now get off me!"

"Don't be so childish. You don't have to prove anything."

"Oh, yeah? How can you say this and keep a straight face? If you're in on the grand secret, you must have heard how my father talks about me...the words he uses when he's not in public but surrounded by those in the know..."

Harry saw that Snape knew exactly what words Malfoy was referring to. And strangely enough, he thought he could see sympathy in the Professor's eyes but the moment had been so fleeting that he wasn't sure if he'd seen it at all.

"Be that as it may, you have to learn how to operate in the shadows. You need to keep up your act. You are a student at Hogwarts and nothing else. There is an apparition test coming up and you should be excited or nervous, pick one, I don't care. Get back on the Quidditch team, date a girl, study for tests in the common room, simply do what students do. Blend in. And whatever task the Dark Lord has assigned to you, use the early mornings or the late nights to...prepare, or what it is you have to do. But it is crucial to stop attracting attention."

"That's very nice and all, but you forget that I will attract attention in certain situations nonetheless. That's why I've been skipping lessons in the first place. Maybe the students won't notice...but the teachers certainly will."

"If students ask you questions, tell them to mind their own business and if a teacher wants to talk to you about it, well...make up stories. Nerves, headache, can't concentrate...things like that."

Snape let go of Malfoy and said: "And now, go and clean yourself up and go to sleep."

Harry red Malfoy's face and knew at once that he hated to be ordered around like that and that he probably wouldn't obey Snape. But the Professor must have seen it as well, because he said: "I will check on you later."

Malfoy grumbled something that Harry couldn't catch. The Slytherin walked slowly towards the corridor that lead to the dormitories but he suddenly stopped and swayed alarmingly, as if he was about to pass out. Nothing happen though and he continued to walk down the corridor but kept a hand on the wall for balance.

Snape called after him: "And Draco, stop taking those potions."

Malfoy turned around and stuttered: "W..what?"

"Don't take me for a fool. I'm an expert in Potions. It's practically written on your face. Wideye potion and some sort of memory enhancer, I believe. If you do not wish to lose your mind or to slowly and painfully decompose while you're still alive, I'd advise you to stop immediately. However, there might be withdrawal symptoms. I have a small phial in my office and its content would help you ease the pain during that time, but since you are so insistent that you don't need anyone's help, I'm not even going to offer it to you."

Malfoy glowered at Snape, turned around and continued to carefully walk down the corridor.

Harry knew now a lot more and yet it wasn't enough. Apparently Malfoy had to do something for Voldemort and it seemed to be both time consuming and complicated. There was some sort of secret between Crabbe, Goyle, Snape, Malfoy and his father. There were probably more people in on it, but Harry didn't know who they were. And that was it, really. Although, he knew now for sure that something was in fact going on and that Voldemort was behind it, but that didn't satisfy him. Harry had to know the details to be able to thwart Malfoy's and Voldemort's plan.

He followed Malfoy down the corridor to see if he'd be able to find out even more tonight.

And it looked like he was in luck. Crabbe was walking towards them. Malfoy immediately stared down at the stone floor, he was intent on ignoring Crabbe. It didn't quite work out, because Crabbe stopped at his side and said: "Draco...how...erm...are you?"

"As if you care!", Malfoy hissed but still didn't look at his former friend.

"I do. I care. You don't look...well. If I can do anything to help...I..." But Malfoy cut him off: "Oh, go to hell, Crabbe! You haven't received any money, have you?"

"No, but it's not..."

"Yeah, I thought so. Sod off!", Malfoy hissed and tried to storm away but it was more like a stumble. Crabbe was about to grab him in order to prevent him from falling but he thought better of it. Malfoy regained his balance and disappeared into what looked like the bathroom. Crabbe sighed. He seemed sad as he walked back to his dorm.

Suddenly, Harry stood alone in the cold stone corridor and wondered what this short fight had been about. He decided to stay put, since Malfoy seemed to follow Snapes' order to take a bath now and that wasn't something Harry felt comfortable spying on. He sat down on the floor, his back against the wall and closed his eyes for a while.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Sudden fast approaching footsteps startled Harry and he realised that he must've dozed off.

How long had he been asleep?

Snape came from the direction where the dormitories were located and he looked positively irritated. At first Harry was afraid that he had missed something important, but then Snape stopped in front of the bathroom door and barged in. Quickly, Harry jumped to his feet and followed the Professor into the bathroom.

"Clearly, it cannot take you this long to..." Snape didn't finish his sentence.

He stopped and Harry walked past him to get a closer look at Malfoy, who was standing in front of the sink. He must have had a bath, because his hair was wet and the grime on his face and hands was gone. Only wearing a pair of dark green pyjama pants, he had turned his back to the mirror and tried to examine something on the right side of his lower back.

But Harry's attention was drawn to the Slytherin's left arm. He almost gasped, but was able to restrain himself. There, on Malfoy's arm was unmistakably the Dark Mark. Of course he had suspected it since the beginning of the new school year but seeing it now right in front of him...his suspicion confirmed...it made him feel sick. Malfoy was a Death Eater.

Upon realising that someone had entered the bathroom, Malfoy quickly grabbed his pyjama top and hurried to put it on.

"Stop," Snape demanded while approaching him but Malfoy didn't listen.

He collected his things and as he passed the Professor, a low menacing voice growled: "I said stop."

This had the desired effect. Malfoy stood still, rolled his eyes and drawled: "What do you want? I thought I was supposed to go to bed."

Snape took a deep breath as if to calm himself before he grabbed Malfoy's pyjama top and pulled it up far enough to see what the Slytherin had been examining in the mirror.

Harry was only mildly surprised that Snape said nothing about the Dark Mark on Malfoy's arm.

"Get off me!", Malfoy yelled and tried to get away. But his efforts were futile as Snape had seized one of his arms and held him in place with ease.

With caution, Harry drew nearer. He immediately wished he hadn't, when he saw what Snape was now staring at. There was a small but disgusting looking wound on Malfoy's lower back. Harry wasn't even sure if it could be called a wound. He couldn't see any blood or flesh for that matter. It was a dark greyish and scaly looking hole and the skin around it was of a lighter grey. It reminded Harry of ash.

"Mens Optimus ", Snape stated with a hint of admiration in his voice. "Did you brew it yourself?" Malfoy nodded slowly. He was clearly as bewildered by Snape's reaction as Harry was.

"It demands great skill..." Snape muttered almost inaudible and added a bit louder: "This potion is not permitted at Hogwarts and as a teacher I have to oversee the cessation of both production and usage."

"You can't", Malfoy protested. "I need it to complete the task." The stern look on Snape's face persisted. And Malfoy whined: "You KNOW I do!"

"Even if I wanted to turn a blind eye, I couldn't do it. This potion is killing you, Draco. I can't let that happen. I promised your mother to protect you." Snape took a deep breath and continued, "I made the Unbreakable Vow. Certainly, I don't have to explain to you what that means. If you continue drinking this potion, your entire body will slowly disintegrate. The potion is to be used over a short period of time only, and I take it, you've been using it for...a month maybe?" Malfoy nodded reluctantly. "Soon the damage to your body will be irreparable and I can't let that happen. Show me the room you've been using for brewing the potion and hand me over every single flask you've filled."

Snape finally let go of Malfoy and the Slytherin immediately took a step back and shook his head. "You can't make me. I won't."

"Do you really want me to go to the headmaster with this?"

"Oh, come on! Give me two more days! I won't attend school, I finish what I started and then I will stop taking the potion, I will hand over my supply, I will do whatever you want. But please, don't make me stop now."

"One day."

Malfoy moaned.

"24 hours and not a minute more. Starting now."

"But I don't have to go to bed now and I won't get expelled for skipping school tomorrow?"

"No. But tomorrow night you will show me the room and give me the potion. Whether you are done or not. No more leniency."

Malfoy grumbled something under his breath that had the word 'unfair' in it, as he collected his things and hurried out of the bathroom.

Right then, Harry decided to stop following him for the day. He was too tired and frankly, too confused about all the things he had heard. He would talk to Ron and Hermione about it in the morning. Maybe they would be able to help him shed some light on the whole thing. He could return tomorrow night to follow Malfoy when he had to show Snape the place he'd been using to brew potions. But for now, he really needed to go to sleep. He stifled a yawn and suddenly Snape turned his head and looked directly at Harry, who immediately held his breath in horror. Snape frowned, waited and listened. But he couldn't hear or see anything out of the ordinary and so he left the bathroom as well. Relief washed over Harry. He had to be more careful around Snape. That man had ears like a bat.

* * *

It was late in the evening, the students were supposed to be in their common rooms or dorms.

Snape stood next to one of the impressive 'windows' of the Slytherin common room and stared into the murky water outside. He was waiting. Waiting for Draco Malfoy, who was, of course, late. Suddenly, the stone wall that was the entrance to the dungeons moved and a very dishevelled Slytherin stumbled into the common room.

"You're late", Snape said starkly.

"I'm here, aren't I?", Draco snarled back.

The Professor decided to ignore the insolence for now and told him to lead him to the room he had been using to brew these forbidden potions. Draco had always been very good at potions but that he had been able to brew Mens Optimus was, well...impressive. Snape wondered for the hundredth time what Draco was up to. What was his plan? He couldn't read the boy's mind. He suspected that Draco's aunt Bellatrix must have taught him Occlumency. This was rather irritating. It would have saved a lot of time if he could have glanced into the boy's head just for a second.

Draco had stopped in front of a wall with a heinous painting on it and was now walking to and fro. Snape frowned but when he saw that a door materialized out of nowhere he knew at once that this was the entrance to the Room of Requirement. As they stepped through it, Snape's eyes widened. He stood in a bright room, filled with cauldrons and numerous cupboards and shelves full of potion ingredients and books. Unfortunately, the whole room was tidy and spotless as if Draco had cleaned the place especially for Snape's visit. There was nothing lying around that could give Snape a hint as to what that boy was up to.

"Alright, hand it over, all of it." Draco groaned in exasperation and rolled his eyes as he went to a cupboard, grabbed a box and gave it to the Professor.

"That's all of it?" Snape asked and Draco nodded. But the way the boy was looking down at the floor while nodding spoke volumes. Snape sighed and cast a quick summoning charm. Three small vials floated out of Draco's trouser pockets and towards Snape.

"Oh, come on!" Draco moaned.

"Well, I said all of it. And I suspect that you have hidden some of the vials somewhere inside this castle. Your room maybe? Ah, it doesn't matter. I will find them nonetheless."

"You can't go through my stuff", Draco protested but it fell on deaf ears. Snape turned around to leave the Room of Requirement while saying: "Henceforth, you are forbidden to use this room. I will cast a spell on the floor in front of that invisible door that will inform me immediately of your presence. So I advise you to avoid this corridor." Snape held the door open and with a nod of his head, prompted Draco to leave the room with him. There was a murderous look on his face and he gritted his teeth but Draco obeyed.

Suddenly, Snape had that strange feeling of being watched again. He hated it. He often felt on the verge of paranoia and he blamed Potter for it. Potter and his stupid invisibility cloak. There were moments he could swear he heard that annoying boy breathing, or felt his presence close by. It unnerved him at times. Snape tried to shrug the feeling off. He followed Draco back to the dungeons.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Money?" Hermione asked him when they were on their way to their Defence against the Dark Arts lesson. Hermione had been pestering him. She still wanted him to spy on Crabbe and Goyle. Fortunately, Harry had noticed that he had forgotten to tell her about the short fight between Crabbe and Draco he had witnessed two nights ago. So he had done it now and hoped that this would satisfy her curiosity for a while.

"Yeah, and it seemed like Crabbe wanted to apologize. He was genuinely sorry for something but he couldn't say it, because Malfoy was being his usual charming self. Their friendship seems to be over, even though Crabbe doesn't want it to be."

Ron snorted. "Are you sure? No one in his right mind wants to be friends with Malfoy. I mean, look at Crabbe and Goyle. They are completely different, now that they don't follow Malfoy around anymore. They're nice to everyone, not just to the Slytherins. And they are suddenly brilliant. They even offer to give extra tuition. Being friends with Malfoy seems to make you dumb. So why should Crabbe want to go back to that?"

"Beats me," Harry said as he sat down at his desk in the classroom. He turned around and saw that Malfoy was sitting in the last row. So he was following Snape's order, he was attending school again, even though he looked quite sick. Beads of sweat were visible on his forehead and his gaunt face had a greyish tinge to it.

Was he experiencing the withdrawal symptoms Snape had been talking about? Or was something else going on?

Malfoy noticed him staring and scowled back. Harry quickly turned around.

Snape entered and class began. They had to practice non-verbal spells again. Because apart from Crabbe, Goyle and Hermione, everyone else was terrible at it.

* * *

Bloody brilliant.

Non-verbal spells.

He couldn't help but feel like Snape was doing that on purpose.

To spite him.

He couldn't have given them a lecture on some long forgotten, cruel or creepy spell, NO, it had to be practice.

Snape wanted to break him, to force him to tell him what the task was the Dark Lord has given him. He wanted him to ask for help. HA! Draco would never ask for help. It was his task and he would complete it.

Because if he would ask somebody to help him, the Dark Lord would find a way to spin the whole thing around and kill his parents anyway because in the end it hadn't been Draco who'd done the deed, right?

Yes, that would be something the Dark Lord would do. And he would let Draco live of course, just to see him suffer. He shuddered to think.

No, he could never ever tell anyone. He had to see it through on his own. And he would!

Thanks to the Mens Optimus, he had the perfect plan. Snapes interference had almost destroyed it, but he had taken another Wideye potion and a higher dose of the Mens Optimus and had set to work. He had finished it just in time and had been about to leave the Room of Requirement, when he remembered that it would be wise to clean everything and leave no trace of what he had been doing in there. After all, Snape was a Potion Master. There was a fair chance that he would be able to deduce the potion Draco had been brewing simply by looking at the ingredient remnants lying around.

And when he had been done with that, something else had occurred to him. Snape would most likely search him, so he had to hide the potion he had been working on for weeks. It had to be somewhere safe, somewhere Snape would never ever look for it. Thanks to the Mens Optimus he had solved that riddle too. Hufflepuff was the answer.

Snape would never look for it there.

And Draco had remembered that there was one Hufflepuff student he could easily blackmail. Back in the fourth year he had written most of her potions essays. She had had absolute no knack for potions and had been very desperate to find someone who could help her with her essays, so that she would at least receive good marks on them. Draco had done stuff like that for various students. Not out of the goodness of his heart, of course, but so that he always had a handful of kids at the ready. They'd do anything for him, as long as he wouldn't tell on them. And so the potion was now hidden safely somewhere in Hufflepuff house. Snape wouldn't find it. He had already taken all of his Wideye potions and brain enhancement potions away, even the ones he had been hiding in his dorm but it didn't matter anymore. Of course, it would have been nice to keep some of the Mens Optimus. He had yet to figure out the details of the last two steps; How to get the last component and how to get the potion (or rather poison) close to the old man?

Well, Draco was confident that he would figure that one out without the help of a potion. He wasn't stupid.

Snape was telling them again that muttering wasn't the same as non-verbal and the fact that he had to point that out was proof that they were imbeciles. After that little insulting lecture, they had to find a partner and practice non-verbal (not muttering) spells.

Draco noticed that his hands were trembling as he got up from his chair. A voice inside his head was repeating the words: 'they will notice, they will notice, they will see what a failure I am, they will know, they will laugh' Draco tried to make it shut up, but it was very persistent.

Suddenly he felt nauseous and his head started to throb. He couldn't do this. He simply couldn't. Not without Crabbe and Goyle. He had never done it without them. Some Slytherin student, Draco couldn't distinguish which one, shouted: "Hey Malfoy! I never thought you would buy a skiving snackbox. What happened? Fell in love with the Weasleys?"

What was this idiot talking about?

He would never buy anything from a Weasley.

He wouldn't even take it, if it was for free.

Draco tried to come up with a biting reply but his head felt funny, as if it was filled with fog. He couldn't find any words at all. He looked down in an attempt to collect his thoughts and he saw something dripping to the floor. It had come from his face. Was that blood?

Oh, his nose was bleeding. And pretty bad too.

Ugh, disgusting! It was leaking into his mouth as well.

He felt even more nauseous now. And the fog inside his head just wouldn't lift. He heard someone say: "Professor? Malfoy doesn't look so good."

Draco didn't hear the response, if there was any at all. He felt himself sway and expected to hit the hard floor any second, but the impact never came. Strong arms had caught him, holding him upright.

Why was his head so heavy?

He heard Snape's voice, it was very close: "Potter, take him to the hospital wing and return at once. No excursions."

The strong arms disappeared and someone, probably Potter, put Draco's left arm around his shoulder and was leading him slowly towards the door.

"And Potter," he heard Snape say, "give this to Madam Pomfrey." A small envelope floated through the air. It stopped in front of them, Potter grabbed it and shoved it into his trouser pocket. They left the classroom and Draco moaned inwardly.

How embarrassing! Why did it have to be Potter?! Stupid Snape! He knew exactly that he couldn't stand this idiot.

"Take this. You are leaving a trail," Potter said and a handkerchief was shoved under his nose and Draco took it more out of reflex than anything else.

They walked in silence for a while until Potter asked him: "You didn't take a Nosebleed Nougat, did you? That's caused by something else. A mind enhancement potion maybe? But why would you need that?"

What the...? How the hell would Potter know about that? Was it just a lucky guess?

"None of your business", Draco had wanted to snarl at him but it sounded rather feeble and muffled as well, because he was still pressing the handkerchief to his nose.

"Listen, Malfoy. I know you are up to something. I know you are a Death Eater and I know you've got some sort of job to do...for Voldemort."

Draco's heart stopped.

He shoved Potter away, dropped the handkerchief and staggered back.

His heart was unmistakably beating again. He knew, because all of a sudden it was beating so fast that his chest hurt.

How the hell could Potter know all these things?!

It was impossible!

He had never told anyone!

He had always made sure that his Dark Mark was completely covered. No one, except Snape, knew. Not even Pansy, or Crabbe and Goyle. He had never taken a shower when someone else had been in the bathroom and he had quit Quidditch to avoid the changing room there.

SO HOW?!

HOW DID POTTER FIND OUT?!

Draco wrapped his arms around his own chest, because it felt like he was being ripped apart from the inside. His heart was breaking his ribs and his lungs were on fire, he couldn't get enough air into them. Electrified by a sudden terrifying thought, Draco's body started to shake violently.

Damn! If this had been a ruse... If Potter has had no proof until now...if he had just wanted to confirm his suspicions...then Draco had given everything away in a second! He should have kept his nerve, he should have acted indifferent!

What was wrong with him?!

Draco heard his father's voice inside his head saying: _Think before you act, you stupid, useless piece of shit!_

Oh, he had to go! Go far away from Potter.

"Hey, Malfoy! Where are you going? I have to get you to the hospital wing. You can't just...oh, come on." He heard footsteps. Potter was following him.

Why couldn't he just leave him alone?!

Draco couldn't walk very fast, in fact he was more stumbling than walking. He fled to the nearest boy's bathroom, disappeared into a stall and locked the door. He didn't feel safe, but at least there was now a door between him and Potter. He wouldn't be able to see his face and interpret the expressions on it.

Damn! How could this have happened?!

Potter knew.

And it was only a matter of time until he would tell Weasley and the Mudblood and maybe even Dumbledore.

Oh, no...he was dead!

He would be thrown out of Hogwarts and then the Dark Lord would find him and kill him.

What was he supposed to do?!

He felt sick and nervous and unsteady and his brain was just so fucking slow!

Draco swallowed but immediately wished he hadn't.

There had been clotted blood in the back of his throat.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The first thing Harry heard when he stepped into the bathroom was retching. Malfoy was throwing up.

'Great! Way to go, Harry!' he thought to himself.

Subtlety had never been his strong suit, he knew that.

But that he was able to shock someone so much that this person had to vomit afterwards, well...that was new.

Maybe he shouldn't have confronted Malfoy like that. Maybe he should have waited, kept it a secret a while longer. It might have been wiser, to act like he didn't know a thing, to continue watching the Slytherin. He hadn't planned to tell Malfoy that he knew about the Dark Mark and Voldemort's task. It had just sort of sputtered out of him.

Harry had stopped in front of the only door that was closed. The retching subsided and was replaced by suppressed sobbing.

"Malfoy?", Harry asked tentatively. "Are you...uhm..do I have to get Madam Pomfrey? Or...uhm..someone else?"

Harry rolled his eyes. Merlin, he was bad at this!

Hermione would have known the perfect thing to say or do. But he was at a loss. And also; this was Malfoy, a bully and a Death Eater! There was no need for Harry to feel so...so sorry for upsetting him. In the past five years at Hogwarts the Slytherin had made countless students cry and worse. If Harry was right, he was even to blame for what happened to Katie, Ron and the Hufflepuff student. So no! Harry didn't have to feel sorry or whatever else it was that made him want to comfort Malfoy.

"Malfoy?", he tried again.

This time there was an answer, a weak one, between sobs, but at least there was an answer. "Leave me alone."

"I'd love to, but Snape will kill me if I don't get your ass to the hospital wing. So, get out of there."

"Just go away please."

Huh?

Malfoy said please?

Now THAT was weird and confusing.

"I'm gonna open the door now, Malfoy, alright?"

The sobbing increased but nothing else could be heard, so Harry pointed his wand at the door and muttered _Alohomora_. There was a faint 'click', Harry grabbed the handle and opened the door.

Malfoy crouched between the toilet seat and the wall, his face hidden behind his hands. There was blood in the toilet, on the floor and on Malfoy's clothes. If Harry hadn't known that the blood had come from Malfoy's bleeding nose, he would've panicked at the sight.

Now what?

He couldn't just drag him out of here, could he?

Harry sighed and sat down on the floor next to the Slytherin. He felt really awkward and he was glad that no one was witnessing this. And with that thought he flicked his wand and closed the stall door again. He cleared his throat.

"Listen Malfoy, I'm sorry. I didn't want to upset you...not this much anyways."

He heard the Slytherin mumble something that sounded like "don't want."

"What was that?"

Malfoy let his hands fall down into his lap as if all strength had left him.

"I don't want it", he pressed out between sobs. "I never wanted the Dark Mark. I don't want to be a Death Eater. I can't do what he wants me to do. I can't. I'm not my father. I'm weak. I can't replace him."

Tears streamed down Malfoy's face and he was shaking all over.

"Then don't, "Harry said, "You don't have to be like your father. You don't have to do what Voldemort wants you to do."

"You don't get it. I have to...I have to do it."

"Why?"

Draco turned his head and Harry saw the forlorn and desperate look in his tear-filled eyes when he answered: "Because he's going to kill my parents if I don't. That's why. And me...he's going to kill me too."

He started sobbing again and Harry couldn't take it anymore. He turned around and pulled the Slytherin into a hug. He expected Malfoy to shove him away but to his astonishment the opposite happened. He clung to him, buried his face into Harry's robes and cried heartbreakingly.

"I don't want to die", he whimpered over and over. Harry wished he knew what to say. He wished he could tell the terrified boy that everything would be okay, but he couldn't. He realised now that Malfoy must have never had a choice. Born into a family of Death Eaters...it had only been a matter of time. Just like Harry had to be the one to kill Voldemort, Malfoy had to be a Death Eater.

"It's unfair", Harry said monotonous and he pulled Malfoy even closer.

* * *

"Harry, where have you been?", was Hermione's anxious question when Harry sat down at his desk in Transfiguration.

"Yeah, you missed all the fun in Defence against the Dark Arts", Ron said sarcastically. "And what's with all the blood, mate? Is that Malfoy's?"

Harry nodded slowly while Hermione cleaned his clothes with the flick of her wand. She frowned and asked: "Are you alright?"

He nodded again and was relieved to see that Professor McGonagall had entered the classroom. It would stop Hermione from asking him questions he had no answers to. Because: Was he alright?

He didn't know.

He wasn't physically hurt or anything but he felt strangely numb...and sad.

Ha!

Sad for Malfoy!

What was wrong with him?

Harry sighed and tried to concentrate on the things Professor McGonagall was saying but to no avail. His thoughts drifted back to what had happened in the bathroom. He had spent the entire Defence against the Dark Arts lesson sitting on the floor in a bathroom stall, holding a crying Draco Malfoy in his arms. The sobbing had eventually subsided a bit, though Malfoy had continued to cling to him, whimpering and mumbling things like: _I don't want to. I can't. I'm useless. He's going to kill me. I don't want to die. My head hurts so much. Make it go away._ Harry hadn't said a single thing. And while he had held Malfoy in his arms, he'd noticed with growing confusion that his own face had been wet with tears as well.

Harry had expected to be embarrassed when Snape had stormed into the bathroom and had found him and Malfoy like this but that hadn't been the case. He had looked up at Snape, who had seemed uncharacteristically worried. Snape had then said only one thing: "Let's get him to the hospital wing." So Harry and Snape had done exactly that and the Professor had reminded him of the envelope he had given him, and Harry had handed it over to Madam Pomfrey. Then Harry had been ushered out of the room and had walked to Transfiguration as if in some sort of trance.

And the feeling continued throughout the entire lesson. He must have looked the part, because by the end of Transfiguration, Hermione all but attacked him.

"What happened? Did Malfoy do something to you?"

And Ron added: "Yeah, you're quite out of it."

Harry wasn't sure what to say. It didn't feel right to tell them about Malfoy's...well...whatever it had been...nervous breakdown maybe?

It had been so raw and private.

He couldn't.

"He's in a pretty bad way. I guess it's because he stopped taking those potions. Snape had mentioned that there would be withdrawal symptoms but I never thought they'd be so brutal. Did you find anything on the stuff Malfoy's been taking?" Harry asked Hermione and hoped that this would distract her from demanding further explanations.

"Yes, I did. Mens Optimus is very complicated to brew. It takes weeks. First you brew the common memory potion and drink it. Then you're able to understand the instructions to brew the second potion; Memoria Amplifica. After you've succeeded in brewing this potion, you drink it as well and you're finally ready to brew Mens Optimus. Only very experienced and intelligent wizards and witches can brew this without enhancing their brains first. Drinking Mens Optimus gives you abilities like reading very fast, you'll remember every single thing you've read and everything you hear, too, whatever you're working on, it will turn out precise and perfect. You can solve almost any problem but there is a downside of course. It sort of consumes your body. You slowly decompose."

"Gross!", was Ron's remark and he asked: "The weird wound that Malfoy has, you told us about it, Harry, you know, the one that looks like ash, that's from this potion?"

Harry nodded. "I still don't know why he's been drinking this potion. I mean, he didn't use it for getting better grades. It has something to do with the task he has to carry out for Voldemort. But what is it?"

"Well, it has to be pretty damn complicated if he needs his brain enhanced like this", Ron said.

"I have to find out and I have to prevent it."

Hermione looked worried. "You should tell Dumbledore, Harry."

Maybe she was right. He had to inform Dumbledore. A Death Eater at Hogwarts was too dangerous, even if that Death Eater was only Malfoy.

"I will. The next time he asks me to come to his office, I'll tell him."

* * *

Harry had expected a different reaction.

Dumbledore hadn't been concerned at all.

He had told Harry that Professor Snape had everything under control. He would keep an eye on Draco Malfoy. And besides, Harry had to concentrate on learning more about Voldemort and the Horcruxes. This was way more pressing. With that, Dumbledore had ended their conversation about Malfoy.

Days went by and Harry tried really hard not to think about the Slytherin and the ominous task. The first few days had been easier though, because he had been very busy and Malfoy had had to stay at the hospital wing, but now... Malfoy was allowed to attend school again and Harry just couldn't let it go. Dumbledore trusted Snape but Harry didn't.

Every time he caught a glimpse of Malfoy, he worried if the Slytherin had been able to complete his task yet. He seemed to feel better, physically at least. There were no nosebleeds or anything else, as far as Harry could tell. He noticed though that Malfoy was agitated and anxious. When they had to practice non-verbal spells in Defence against the Dark Arts, Malfoy's performance was poor. Harry had never seen him fail before but now it seemed that he wasn't even able to perform the most basic spells. His jinxes had no impact at all and his shield charm was almost non-existent. And it wasn't because he was just bad at non-verbal spells, even if he muttered the words there wasn't much happening. Of course this didn't go unnoticed and most of the Gryffindor's couldn't stop sniggering. Some of the Slytherin's looked confused and others gloated, but Crabbe was white as a sheet and obviously pitied Malfoy. It seemed like he felt responsible for each and every jinx that hit his former friend. Goyle on the other hand clenched his teeth, cringed and looked the other way. They both didn't seemed to be as surprised as the rest of the students.

The whole thing was undoubtedly very humiliating for Malfoy, but surprisingly, he did not give up. He never said a word, never complained, put up with the mockery and tried as hard as he could to get the spells right. At the end of the lesson though, he usually all but fled from the classroom. He was still very good at Potions and all the theoretical stuff, but from what Harry had heard he sucked at everything that involved spells.

Ron, Harry and Hermione were discussing the matter while eating dinner in the Great Hall.

"He says it's because he's been very sick for the past months and that he hasn't fully recovered yet. At least that's what he told Luna, when she asked him", Hermione said.

"Well, we know that that's a lie. He's been scheming and brewing potions."

Ron frowned and asked: "Do you think they messed with his magic, the potions he drank, I mean? Maybe it's another withdrawal symptom."

Hermione shock her head. "I don't think so. I didn't come across anything like that, when I gathered information about Mens Optimus. I say it has something to do with Crabbe and Goyle."

Ron rolled his eyes and moaned: "Not that again. You know, both of you are ridiculous. You're obsessed with Crabbe and Goyle and Harry with Malfoy."

"I'm not obsessed!", said Harry and Hermione in unison.

They looked at each other and had to laugh.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Another dreadful day was behind him.

Another day filled with humiliation, mockery and the occasional concerned look from a teacher.

Another day gone by and he still hadn't carried out the task.

Draco sighed and sat down on the cold floor, his back against the tiled wall. He rested his head against it too and closed his eyes. His life had always been somewhat exhausting. He had never been good enough for his father. But now, the endless struggle for his father's approval had turned into an endless struggle for survival. Draco felt drained and so very weak.

Why was this stupid old man always travelling? He was the headmaster of this blasted school, so why was he never around?

Draco could have been done with the task by now, or well...he could've at least finished the poison he had brewed. There was only one ingredient left. One that would ensure that the poison was indeed a personalised one. It wouldn't hurt or kill anyone else, except Dumbledore. So there were no accidents possible this time. It was a brilliant poison. You could pour the liquid onto the one you wanted to kill, you could put it into his food or drink, or simply spill it on the floor. It really didn't matter, as long as it was released when you stood next to your victim, the liquid would find and kill the one it was designed for.

Draco had been frantically looking for a way to kill Dumbledore, and since Potions was the only thing he was good at, he'd decided that he'd comb through all the Potion's books in the library first. And so he'd stumbled over this magnificent poison, but unfortunately not before he'd almost killed three students with some of his other ideas.

And also, there had been a huge obstacle.

To brew this little gem, he had to boost his brain quite a bit to understand the complicated instructions and to follow them precisely. So he had done research on that and then had to brew the different potions that would enhance his brain. The whole thing had been damn time consuming and it had him nearly killed but he knew it would work. It just had to. This poison was foolproof.

To finish it though, he needed a hair, a fingernail, blood or a little piece of skin from Dumbledore. And as if that itself wasn't hard enough to accomplish, the old man had to make it even harder by not being around.

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. He's had a slight but ever present headache for days now. It wasn't a withdrawal symptom, luckily, that was over. It had been horrible. His mind had felt so limited, so constricted in the time the potion had been wearing off. It had taken him a few days until he'd gotten used to the way his mind had worked before the potion. Until it didn't feel freaking slow anymore, but normal. Although it had felt like the pain would never end, Draco was sure that it would've been much worse, if it hadn't been for Snape. Draco had seen how the Professor had given a little phial to Pomfrey, along with an envelope. This had probably been a potion to ease the withdrawal symptoms. Draco seemed to recall Snape mentioning something like that once.

Before Snape had left the hospital wing, he had come up to Draco's bed and had whispered: "Now, accept help for once and don't worry, Madam Pomfrey can't see your Dark Mark. I enchanted the letter she is now reading. It will wear off in 5 days. But make sure to hide it from everyone else."

'_Potter knows_', Draco had wanted to say, but the words hadn't come out of his mouth.

He had slept a lot during his stay in the hospital wing, since the effect of the Wideye Potions he'd been drinking for weeks, was wearing off as well. Exhaustion had hit him like a Bludger.

But this now, the headache, the feeling of being drained, empty and too weak to walk to his next class, the Great Hall, the dormitories or anywhere really...this was different. And he blamed Crabbe and Goyle for it.

Why did they have to stop now?!

They couldn't have done it in the fourth year, or the fifth, nooo, it had to be now.

Stupid traitors.

He hoped they'd choke on their happiness.

A small voice in the back of his head told him though, _that in truth, the person to blame for this disaster was his father. It was his fault, that they'd stopped._

But he couldn't be angry with his father, he couldn't blame him, his father didn't choose to go to Azkaban.

_But he had been the one who'd started the bloody thing in the first place, because he was ashamed of you._

The little voice got louder but so did Draco.

He had to protect the family name! If Crabbe and Goyle had really been his friends, they would've continued, regardless!

_Listen to yourself! You KNOW it's your father's fault, but you can't even be mad at him inside your own bloody mind, because you're so afraid of him. You're pathetic._

Draco shouted, this time out loud: "Shut up!"

And then he opened his eyes. He was still sitting on the tiled floor, in the girl's bathroom on the first floor. He was still alone.

Brilliant, just brilliant! He was now talking...well...shouting at himself like a madman. Great.

"Draco?"

The Slytherin tensed up for a second, because he feared that he hadn't been alone after all but when he saw the translucent body of Myrtle floating through the air towards him, he relaxed.

For a muggle-born Ravenclaw girl; she was alright. They had met frequently this year. Draco had been choosing either the boy's bathroom on the sixth floor, or the girl's bathroom on the first floor as his hideout. He had noticed that both bathrooms were not as frequented as others. Of course the reason for that regarding the girl's bathroom was obvious. It was where Myrtle usually resided.

Why people avoided the one on the sixth floor...well, Draco had no clue and he couldn't care less. As long as he could enjoy some peace and quiet there, it didn't matter. And Myrtle showing up occasionally didn't bother him. It was actually quite nice sometimes. She had seen him cry once or twice this year and much to his surprise he found that he didn't care. It would've been worse if the Slytherins had seen him cry, or Potter...wait...Potter **had** seen him cry...Oh, for crying out loud! He thought that he'd finally succeeded in suppressing that embarrassing memory. But...here we go again! Potter had held him in his arms while he had sobbed like a weak little kid. Oh, he would never get over that! He moaned.

"Having a bad day, Draco?" He consciously breathed in and out to calm himself and said: "Yeah."

"I'm so sorry. Last time I saw you, you said that your secret potions project was going so well", Myrtle said, her voice full of concern.

"Oh, it's not that. That's going to work out. I just...I can't stand this school. I can't stand the people in it. It's all a stupid farce. I don't want to see them. I wish I could just stay in here for the rest of the year."

Myrtle giggled. "That would be fun. We could invent games, tell each other stories, and if someone dares to come in here, we would scare them to death. Oh, please stay!"

Draco had to smile a bit but it died pretty quickly, when he thought of Snape. "I can't. They are going to expel me if I miss any more classes." Myrtle sighed very loudly and then suddenly, she looked at him with her sad eyes and said knowing: "The other students are mean to you, aren't they."

Suddenly, tears were running down his cheeks and he hurried to hide his face in his hands. Draco didn't quite understand why Myrtle's words affected him so much. All the ridicule and mockery of the past few days had rolled off him, hadn't it? But hearing Myrtle say out loud that people were mean to him...it made it real...and hurtful.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I know how it feels. You can tell me anything, I'll understand. And I promise, I won't laugh or mock you. I am not like them."

Draco sniffed. This wouldn't do. He had to get better at suppressing his emotions. After the breakdown in the bathroom (for which he blamed the potion withdrawal), he had tried to keep his emotions in check. After all, he was a Death Eater now, and Death Eaters didn't cry. They weren't afraid to kill someone either. If he could just get rid of all emotions! Life would be so much easier. Draco took a deep breath, raised his head and straightened his back. Cold and unfeeling, he was cold and unfeeling. Cold and unfeeling. Yes, this could work. He just had to say these words to himself over and over again until his mind and body were convinced. But in the meantime, it wouldn't hurt to get a bit of it off his chest, right? To make it easier.

"They laugh at me, all of them, all the time, because I'm crap at magic." There. He said it.

"How can you be crap at magic? From what I've heard you were always amazing at it and I'm sure you got great O.W.L. results, too." Myrtle floated down in front of him and pretended to sit on the floor.

"Oh, those. It's all a fake. My father bribed and blackmailed the experts. I never would've passed."

Who knew that saying this out loud would feel so good?

Although a few seconds later, Draco withdrew that observation. It felt absolutely horrid. Because a girl came out of a toilet stall and hurriedly left the bathroom.

Shocked, Draco looked at Myrtle, who immediately said: "I didn't know she was there, either. I'm so sorry, Draco."

He didn't blame her, he blamed himself. He should've checked the stalls. But there never was anyone else in here, ever.

Oh, he was dead!

"Did you recognise her, Myrtle. Do you know who she is?", Draco said as he sprang to his feet and grabbed his things. He headed for the bathroom door but had to pause for a moment when his vision blurred. He had gotten up way too fast. He waited for it to pass and then continued. He heard Myrtle say that she didn't know who the girl was but that she thought she had seen yellow in her school uniform.

That was good news. Not a Slytherin.

Draco wasn't doomed then, just a little done for. There was no need to panic.

He was cold and unfeeling, cold and unfeeling, cold and unfeeling.

He would be able to deal with this.

It wasn't a problem.

The girl in front of him turned around a corner and he followed. She was only walking, though very fast and Draco felt like he would never be able to catch up with her, so he started to run. He noticed that she was heading for the basement. A Hufflepuff then. Right. He could handle this.

Draco tried not to bump into people as he ran past them. Dinner at the Great Hall had to be over and most students were on the way to their common rooms. They shot him curious looks, some shouted things he chose to ignore and some tried to make him stumble.

Cold and unfeeling, Draco thought, he was cold and unfeeling.

This didn't matter.

He had to catch that girl before she could tell anyone about his O.W.L.. It was the only important thing now.

Draco's head throbbed worse than before. He wasn't really fit to run. His throat hurt and he was wheezing pretty badly. And when he finally passed the entrance to the kitchen, he felt like throwing up or fainting.

He stopped and leaned against the wall, panting heavily. He saw the girl standing in front of the barrels. She turned around, looked at him with outright disdain and then vanished through the secret entrance into Hufflepuff house.

Oh, no!

Not her!

Why did it have to be her?!

Draco moaned.

Of all the Hufflepuffs it had to be Tara, the one he blackmailed, the one who was hiding the poison he had created.

Could it get any worse?!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Malfoy?"

Of course it could get worse.

Potter standing in front of him qualified as worse.

He looked at him with concern, which was clearly fake and asked: "Are you alright?"

"Splendid, Potter, splendid. Now, would you mind...? I'm rather busy."

Draco was still wheezing pretty hard and cursed inwardly at the embarrassing, unintentional display of weakness in front of Potter. Again.

"With what? Collapsing?"

"It's none of your business, so sod off."

"What are you doing down here anyway?" Potter's tone got more irritated.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Am I not enunciating right? I said: It's none of your business."

"Why are you being so difficult?"

"Why are you such a nuisance?"

Potter began to bristle with anger.

"You know what, Malfoy, I don't care what..."

But Draco never got to hear what Potter didn't care about, because Tara had come back. She shoved Draco rather hard against the wall so that he hit his head and fell to the floor. He scrambled away from her and tried to get up but the corridor seemed to move in a very unrealistic way, which reminded him of Apparating with his father but it wasn't his intention to do that right now, so this was obviously something else. He decided to sit down and lean against the wall. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and fought against nausea.

Tara stepped in front of him. She was furious and Draco expected her to hit him but instead she shouted at him: "You are such a hypocrite, Malfoy! You threatened me, blackmailed me... The things you said to me...You made me cry. I was so afraid of getting expelled. How could you?! When you're obviously not better than me. No wait, you're worse, much worse! Because your father..."

"Shut up!" Draco screamed and got to his feet immediately.

"Why? Are you afraid of getting expelled?" Tara sneered at him. "I bet if Harry here knew, he'd go straight to Dumbledore. Should I tell him?"

Draco pointed a finger at her and snarled "You shut your face!"

"Oh, yeah? I'm not afraid of you anymore. You're powerless", she chuckled.

Aaargh!

How the hell did this happen?!

Everything had been fine ten minutes ago, well not fine, but way better than this.

His head was throbbing so hard he couldn't think.

Cold and unfeeling, he was cold and unfeeling. Cold and unfeeling. He could handle this.

"Listen. Give me back the box I gave you for safekeeping and we're done. I'll keep your secret, you'll keep mine and we go our separate ways", he hoped the desperation he felt wasn't audible.

"Hmm...sounds reasonable, except, I can't give you your box back, you see, I was very angry when I ran back to my room. And to get back at you, I threw the box away." Tara sneered again. Clearly happy about the devastating look on Draco's face.

"You did WHAT?!", he screamed.

"I threw it into the lake. Have fun looking for it."

"Oh, you stupid little...", Draco couldn't finish the sentence. His anger drove him towards her, his fist raised, ready to beat the life out of her. But Potter, oh of course, Potter stepped in and pushed him back against the wall and away from Tara. She laughed and walked slowly back to the entrance to Hufflepuff house.

"Don't worry, Malfoy, I'll keep your secret, as long as you keep mine", she said and disappeared into one of the barrels.

No, no, no, nonononono.

This can't be happening, Draco thought, as panic slowly started to grab him by his throat, squeezing it shut. He had worked so hard and so long to create this poison. He had put his mind and body through hell for it and that stupid Hufflepuff girl ruined it all in a matter of seconds.

Threw it into the lake?!

How could she!

Ignorant little brat!

What was he supposed to do now?

Could he get it back somehow?

Was it still intact?

Was the box watertight?

He didn't know, he just didn't know. He felt lightheaded and weak. Was someone calling his name?

"Malfoy! Calm down, will you. You are breathing too fast."

Was he?

Oh, yes, he was.

But he couldn't breathe slower, he couldn't calm down.

The Dark Lord was already getting impatient and now Draco's plan had been shattered. How was he supposed to kill Dumbledore now? His _Avada Kedavra_ was probably only strong enough to kill a spider, a mouse, or other small animals, but not a grown man, much less a wizard as skilled as Dumbledore. Oh, this was bad. This was really bad. He had to get that box back! But how? Somehow his thoughts began to retreat. He couldn't reach them anymore.

* * *

"Malfoy?... Malfoy!"

Before the Slytherin's body could hit the floor, Harry caught him and made sure that he wouldn't hit his head on the stone floor. The loud fight before and now the unconscious boy in front of Harry had caught the attention of several students, who were now gathering around them. He heard them whisper but only caught snippets of their hushed conversations.

"Did Potter kill him?"

"What happened?"

"...probably hexed him..."

"I heard Malfoy is losing his mind..."

"...can't even do the simplest spells..."

"...how thin he is."

"...said he's sick."

"...hate each other."

"...should call a teacher..."

"Is he dead?"

Harry didn't know what to do. He kneeled next to the unconscious Slytherin, who really looked like he was dead, as pale and skinny as he was. But he was still breathing and fortunately, slower than before. That was a good thing.

Oh, man! Why did trouble always find him? He hadn't been looking for Malfoy, or as Ron had put it, been obsessed with him for at least...well, a few days now. When he had walked down to the kitchen, he had simply wanted to pay a visit to Dobby.

Suddenly, he noticed the presence of two people standing right next to him and one of them whispered: "Harry, what's going on? Did you off him?"

Harry relaxed when he identified the voice as Ron's and he answered: "No, I didn't. He fainted."

Ron chuckled and from the sound of it, Hermione hit him in the side for that. "That's not funny", she said: "Let's get him away from all the people first. Into the kitchen maybe? Go on Ron, help him."

Harry nodded and looked at Ron, who wrinkled his nose at the prospect of having to help carrying Malfoy.

They managed to carry him into the kitchen, away from the glares of the students. In here, they wouldn't be stared at. The house-elves had too much to do and if curiosity got the better of them, it was solely expressed with a quick glance in their direction. Only Dobby came running towards them.

"Harry Potter", he squeaked with delight but as soon as he saw Malfoy he looked worried.

"Hi, Dobby. Can we stay here for a bit? Malfoy passed out in the corridor and we want to make sure he's okay. There are too many people outside."

"Of course. Harry Potter and his friends can stay here as long as they want to", the elf said but he eyed Malfoy carefully. He was still wary of his former master.

"Can Dobby help somehow?"

Harry smiled at him as he answered: "Thank you, Dobby. But we are just going to wait for him to wake up. We might need your help to get Madam Pomfrey, if he doesn't wake up though."

"Of course, Dobby can do that, just call. Dobby has to go back to work now." Dobby bowed and disappeared into the crowd of busy elves.

"I don't get it, Harry", Ron said: "Why are we nice to Malfoy? He's never been nice to us."

"In case you've forgotten, he's got a task from Voldemort and I need to find out what it is and I won't get any answers if I keep avoiding him. I saw him fighting with Tara Byrne just before he passed out. She talked about some secrets they both had and about how Malfoy had been blackmailing her and about a box that she threw into the lake. It made him really angry and then he started to hyperventilate and passed out. I bet this has something to do with the task", Harry explained and at the same time he tried to convince himself that this was the only reason for helping Malfoy. But deep down, he knew that there was something else that drove him. A feeling he couldn't quite name. Was it commiseration? Maybe a bit. Ever since Malfoy had clung to him in that bathroom and had poured his heart out to him, Harry felt different towards him. The Slytherin wasn't just a spoilt, rich brat anymore. Underneath it all, he was suffering. He had to be something he didn't want to be and had to do things he didn't want to do and all because of Voldemort. Voldemort was ruining Malfoy's life, just like he was continuously ruining Harry's. Harry was able to relate to the Slytherin now and somehow...he couldn't explain it...but he felt a strong need to help Malfoy. He wanted to take him as far away from Voldemort as possible. It was really strange and he wasn't sure if he liked it. The whole thing was too confusing and that was why he wouldn't tell Ron or Hermione about it.

Harry took his robe off, folded it (or tried to anyway) and used it as a makeshift cushion for Malfoy. The Slytherin was lying on the cold floor, so this was the least Harry could do. Ron frowned and looked at Harry in a way that was saying _Have you lost your mind_? Fortunately, Malfoy chose this moment to stir. He groaned and opened his eyes. He looked at them in growing confusion and inhaled as if he was about to say something but then hesitated. Finally, he seemed to have made up his mind and asked: "How did I get here?"

"We carried you in here. Your fight with Tara has attracted quite the crowd, so we thought, we get you away from there", Harry answered and he was about to say something else, but Hermione chimed in: "Are you alright? Should we get you to the hospital wing? Or maybe call someone? Madame Pomfrey? Snape? Or your friends, Crabbe and Goyle?"

Ron rolled his eyes but thankfully Malfoy didn't see that, as Ron was standing behind him.

"I'm fine", the Slytherin mumbled and got up, but as soon as he stood, he swayed alarmingly and Harry grabbed his arm to make sure he wouldn't fall to the floor a second time. He supported him to the nearest chair and told him to sit down. He then went to one of the elves and asked him for a glass of water. In a matter of seconds, four glasses of water, as well as four mugs, tea and cookies appeared on the table next to where Malfoy sat. Harry blinked a few times in astonishment at the swiftness of the elf and about his decision to serve them more than just a glass of water. He seemed to know what they needed, even if they haven't thought of it themselves yet.

Ron, Hermione and Harry looked at each other for a moment and then decided to sit down at the table as well. Harry poured tea into the mugs and handed one to each of them. He also took two cookies from the plate (to save them from Ron) and put them in front of Malfoy.

"Eat something. It'll help."

The Slytherin glared at him in defiance and Harry shrugged his shoulders. He wouldn't fight with him over that. At least Malfoy accepted the tea.

"What happened out there, with Tara? What was your fight about?" Harry asked instead.

* * *

Oh, great.

The three investigators were on to him.

Now what?

He had to come up with something, and fast.

"She's my girlfriend...well...ex-girlfriend now. Obviously."

Could this work?

Would they be fooled by this?

Potter called out a confused "What?", Weasley was chocking on a cookie and Granger simply frowned.

She would be the hardest to fool. She wasn't stupid. But to his surprise, Weasley was the one who voiced his scepticism first.

When he was done coughing, he said: "You really expect us to believe that? You and a girl from Hufflepuff? Your father would throw a fit."

"You always do what your father wants you to do, Weasley?"

"No, but you do."

Well, darn.

That was true.

Out of fear and because of an ever present need to make his father proud of him (which was of course, virtually impossible), he did everything his father wanted him to do.

His facial expression must have betrayed him, because Weasley said: "Look at him, he's obviously lying."

Granger nodded, but Potter was staring at him like a deranged and mumbled disbelieving: "You had a girlfriend?"

"Harry, come on, Tara is not a pureblood. He would have never dated her."

Oh, Granger was right. He forgot about that.

Well, it had been a stupid choice for a white lie.

There was only one thing to do now; he had to get out of here.

They won't believe it? Fine. He didn't have to explain anything to them.

"You asked, I gave you an answer. I don't care if you believe it, or not." Draco got up, but this time slowly to avoid fainting in front of them again. He grabbed his things and walked towards the door.

"What's in the box? Why did it upset you so much that Tara threw that box into the lake?", Harry called after him but Draco decided to ignore him.

As he left the kitchen, he heard Weasley shout: "A 'thank you' would have been nice, Malfoy."

He pretended not to hear that as well and headed for the dungeons.


	8. Chapter 8

Snape was exhausted.

Children were a menace!

Why couldn't they simply do what one asked them to do?

Why?

Why was it so hard for students to follow rules and instructions?

It was the simplest thing: read or listen and then do or don't do.

And yet the majority of them couldn't wrap their heads around the concept.

Snape sighed as he walked briskly towards Hogsmeade.

Sadly, it was one of those weekends where the students were allowed to visit the little town, so he had to endure their annoying presence even down there.

He sighed again. What would he give for a little peace and quiet?! There was too much going on.

The Dark Lord's plans, Dumbledore's plans, regular school and...ah, yes, the Unbreakable Vow.

He still wasn't sure if it had been a good idea to make it. Draco was the typical teenager; anger paired with delusions of grandeur mixed with insecurity and awkwardness. The usual. But Draco was under a lot of pressure and it was obvious that he was very much afraid of the Dark Lord. But would he accept Snape's help? No! Of course not! Stubborn brat! It was harder to protect him from himself than from anything the Dark Lord could do to him.

It looked like Draco had stopped drinking potions though, so he had listened to him at least once and Snape was glad for that. Mens Optimus was unfortunately just as gruesome as it was glorious. Snape was still immensely impressed that Draco had been able to brew it. He made a mental note to tell Lucius about it. It might help him see that his son wasn't a failure. Sure, he was completely useless when he had to do spellwork, but he knew all the theory and history by heart and has proven now that he was exceptional at potions. Lucius had to acknowledge that!

But that was of secondary importance now.

Snape had to find out what Draco's plan was. Why did he brew Mens Optimus in the first place? Snape wouldn't be able to keep his promise to Narcissa and to Dumbledore, if he couldn't figure out how Draco was going to kill the Headmaster.

Finally, Snape had reached the little town and walked straight to Dervish and Banges.

He had received an owl this morning. Apparently, his quill was ready. It had been acting up in a rather annoying way and Snape had brought the thing to Dervish and Banges in the hope that they could fix it. It would've been a shame if the quill had been beyond repair. It was custom made after all. It was called the emphasizing quill and had been pricy, but was worth every Galleon he had paid for it. No matter how hard you pushed, the parchment never ripped. It came with unlimited red ink and automatically wrote insults in bold letters and if they were particularly vicious, even underlined them. Snape used nothing but this quill for grading papers. Unfortunately, it had picked up the nasty habit of floating around the room when Snape wasn't using it. And every time Snape wanted to use it, he couldn't find the blasted thing. It would usually land randomly on a shelve or a cupboard, on a picture frame or somewhere else high up and out of sight. Snape had gotten tired of summoning the quill and so, two days ago, he had decided to bring it to Dervish and Banges.

Snape entered the gloomy shop, walked up to the counter and waited. No one appeared. He cleared his throat in the hope that someone would hear him but again, no one came. This was annoying.

"Hello?", he said loud enough so he would be heard in the back room as well. Nothing happened. He waited for a while longer and just as he was about to start a search of the whole shop, the owner stumbled out of the back room.

Finally, Snape thought.

"Oh, hi...ehm...didn't hear you enter...I was...ehm...asleep...hehe...it happens...you see, I'm old...hihihi...".

Did the old man just giggle? Snape frowned.

"So, what can I do for you?"

"You know why I'm here. You've send me an owl."

"I did?"

Snape's frown deepened and the old man said quickly: "Of course I did. It's because of the thing...I remember...let me just...ehm...OH! I've been waiting for you."

Snape turned his head and saw Draco Malfoy standing in the door. He looked as if he was walking to his own execution, white faced and terrified. His eyes wandered over to Snape and for a split second, they seemed to plead for help.

"Do come in, Mr. Malfoy and follow me", the old man said and then turned to Snape, "I'll be with you in a moment."

Draco obeyed and both disappeared into the back room before Snape could speak his mind.

This was outrageous.

He had been here first.

And besides, why had the owner been waiting for Draco, when it was very obvious that the boy wanted to be anywhere but here?

He was about to follow them both to see if he could somehow find out what was going on, when a group of Hogwarts students entered the shop. They were browsing, intrigued by the many curious objects that were on sale. Of course some Slytherin students had to come up to him and ask him stupid questions as well and so his plan to eavesdrop on Draco fell through. He couldn't do this in front of his students.

* * *

"Draco, darling", the old man tenderly brushed Draco's cheek with two fingers before he let his hand rest on Draco's shoulder.

The Slytherin froze.

Did this man just call him darling?

And why was he touching him like this?

His pulse quickened, he felt trapped. Cold sweat began to soak the shirt he was wearing underneath his black jacket. This was really weird and Draco's nerves weren't particularly strong at the moment. He couldn't handle weird right now.

What did this man want from him?

Was he a Death Eater as well?

And why the hell was Snape in the shop?

Was he spying on him?

Did he intercept his mother's letter?

A few days ago Draco had written a letter to her and had asked her for Gillyweed. He needed it to start the search for the poison. His 'Accio' was not strong enough and he didn't want to ask someone else to do it for him. It would raise too many questions and besides, trusting another wizard was the last thing he wanted to do. Using Tara had been a mistake. One he wasn't inclined to make again. And asking Snape or Slughorn for Gillyweed was also out of the question. Both would get way too inquisitive. Well, maybe not Slughorn, but Draco didn't want to risk it. So he had asked his mother instead. But her answer had been a bit odd. He had expected her to send him a package, but instead she asked him to pick the weed up at Dervish and Banges at precisely two o'clock in the afternoon. Why this shop? If she couldn't send it directly to Hogwarts, why not to the post office of Hogsmeade? He could've picked it up there.

The old man began to squeeze Draco's shoulder. First only mildly but his grip got stronger and stronger until it started to hurt.

"Ahhh...what are you doing? Get off me!" Draco tried to shake the man's hand off of him, but it didn't work.

"Aww..poor boy. Does it hurt? Get used to it, Draco. What the Dark Lord has in store for you is a hundred times worse...should you fail, that is. But to tell you the truth, it doesn't look good for you anyway. He is running out of patience."

"Who the hell are you?", Draco gasped.

This question bewildered the old man. He stared at him in confusion and then blinked a few times. Suddenly, his expression changed. He seemed to realize something. "Oh, I'm so sorry", he chuckled and let go of his shoulder, "I completely forgot that I used Polyjuice Potion. It's me, your dear aunty." He chuckled again.

"Bellatrix?"

"Yes, I'm here to make you get a move on. Stop dawdling and do what you were told to do. One does not let the Dark Lord wait! But you...Draco, Draco...you've let him wait for so many months now, and you continue to let him wait. That can be compared to suicide, you know." The old man...no...Bellatrix grinned at him.

"I'm close. Please, tell him! It won't be long. I just need a few more weeks, I promise."

"Weeks?" Bellatrix frowned. "I must have misheard, because 'weeks' is not acceptable."

Draco's hands were cold as ice. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't tell her that the one thing that he could kill Dumbledore with was lying on the bottom of a lake. And that it was still written in the stars whether he would find the box down there, not to mention if the poison was still usable.

An idea struck him. There was something else he could tell her. Another reason why Dumbledore was still alive.

"Dumbledore is never around. They say he's travelling a lot but... anyway, my point is that it's been impossible to get close to him. And in order to complete my plan to kill him, I need something from him, a hair, some skin, blood...it doesn't matter what, but so far I haven't been able to obtain anything."

"Seriously? Just summon a hair. There must be dozens of them lying around in his blasted castle. Even here in Hogsmeade."

"I...I can't do that...and you know it", Draco looked down at the floor while he said these words. He hated to talk about it. His magic had always been ...slender. It wasn't his fault, but his father had made sure that he felt like it was. He was a disgrace for the family.

"Oh...silly me. Of course! I forgot", she raised her wand and said: "Accio one of Dumbledore's scalp hair." She opened the backdoor of the shop and waited. It didn't take long and a single long and silvery hair floated towards her. She plucked it out of the air and handed it over to Draco. "There you go. Problem solved. Now, go on and kill him already."

Draco mumbled a 'thanks'. He hadn't expected that. He had meant to buy himself more time, not to speed things up. He took a handkerchief out of his trouser pocket, carefully stored the hair between the fabric and then put it back into his pocket.

"Oh!", Bellatrix said rather loudly and Draco flinched. She walked over to a pile of black clothes, probably hers and rummaged around for something. "There it is. Your mother told me to give you this. Gillyweed. Ugh! Why do you need that stuff?"

She handed him a small plastic bag and he replied: "Just like the hair...it's for my plan."

Suddenly, there was a rather loud knock at the door that lead to the front of the shop. It was followed by Snape's voice: "May I remind you that you have customers to serve?" He seemed very annoyed and this made Bellatrix giggle.

"Hihihi...You go now, Draco. Go out the back door. I'm going to have some fun with dear old Severus." She laughed again but then without warning, she got serious, grabbed Draco's throat with one hand and squeezed. Her nails, or rather the old man's nails, dug painfully into his skin. "Now listen to me, Draco. You are going to do what the Dark Lord asked of you and you are going to do it soon. Not in a few weeks or months. Do you understand?! Your life and the life of your parents are at stake."

Bellatrix let go of his throat and Draco croaked: "I know. I know that. You don't have to remind me."

"Good", she said and smiled again, "off you go."

Bellatrix has always had the ability to unsettle him, but not looking like herself made her behaviour somewhat more disturbing. He was glad to be dismissed. He stuffed the bag with the Gillyweed into one of his jacket's pockets and hurried out the shop's back door.

* * *

"My apologies, sir, but I couldn't let Mr. Malfoy wait. Now, what can I do for you?"

Snape took a deep and hopefully calming breath before he answered. "I'm here to pick up my quill."

The old man looked at him as if he had just told him that magic didn't exist.

"What quill?"

Snape gritted his teeth. What was wrong with this man today?! Had someone obliviated him?

"The quill I gave to you two days ago. You told me that you would try to fix it and today I've got a message that informed me of your success."

"Oh, really?"

It was odd.

The way the old man tilted his head and looked at him with eyes that seemed to radiate insanity...it all reminded him of...No...it couldn't be her.

Snape's eyes narrowed as he studied the shop owner's face. The old man stared back at him and they stood stock still like this for a while. Snape heard a few students whisper behind his back but he didn't care how weird this must look to them. He couldn't see into the man's head and that worried him. This was a simple shop owner after all, wasn't he?

And then he saw it. A twitch in the corners of the man's mouth. Fleetingly, but it had been there.

It _was_ her.

"Accio emphasizing quill", Snape said calmly, caught the box that flew towards him, turned around and left the shop without paying or saying another word.

Leaving behind a few bewildered students and an old man laughing maniacally.


End file.
